Chickenhound at the head of a band

With Ambrose Spike trailing in her wake, Constance crashed through the woods. So great was the badger's anger and grief that she was oblivious to any notion of stalking or tracking. She barged along straight through anything that stood in her way, the heavy striped face a mask of cold fury. The hedgehog stayed behind Constance. Those huge blunt paws were ready to tear some creature into doUrags. No power on earth would save the murderous fox if Constance caught him. But the badger's retribution was not to be.







Quaking with fear, Chickenhound held his breath as the woodland juggernaut thundered by within a couple of yards of the hideout. He listened hopefully as the path of destruction trailed off into the distance of Mossflower. Once more the woods grew quiet.







Chickenhound finally exhaled a long sigh of relief. Once again the newly self-titled overlord of crime had outsmarted a couple of mere animals. Who on earth did they think they were? When word got around of his daring exploits other creatures would come to him, foxes perhaps. Yes, he could see it all, of robber foxes, plundering and thieving wherever the whim took him. Of course he would change his name to a title more fitted to his position: Redflash, or Nightfang, or maybe Mousedeath. Yes, he liked the sound of that, Mousedeath! His band of minions would admire him, telling each other tales of his astonishing deeds, convinced that the mysterious Mousedeath had always been an infamous thief, unaware of his humble beginnings as Chickenhound, son of Old Sela.







As he crouched in the darkness the young fox decided that the coast was now clear. He could venture out again. Reaching behind, he felt for the sack that contained his first solo haul. Before he left he wanted to fondle his treasures once more,







to reassure himself that they were an auspicious start to his new venture. In the gloomy hideout his paw reached out and felt something.







It was not the sack of loot.







" Asmodeussssssssss!''







That evening the Joseph Bell rang out a message of sadness and grief to Redwall Abbey.







Mice and woodlanders sat about on the stone floor of Great Hall, each creature with its own sorrowful thoughts.







Two Redwall mice dead upon the same day.







Jess Squirrel sat with her head between her paws. Mr. Squirrel had taken the inconsolable Silent Sam off to bed. Jess had explained fully to the Abbot and the Council how she had witnessed Matthias's fall from the roof with the sparrow. Instead of falling straight down, both creatures had been swept out of Jess's line of vision by huge gusts of wind. Where Matthias's body lay now nobody knew.







As soon as her feet touched ground the squirrel had gone about organizing search parties. They had scoured the area until the light became too bad to continue, returning after fruitless hours spent searching Redwall grounds and Moss-flower Wood.The best way to reduce labour in refilling vape cartridge is by getting an ! They have a small table top design and come with a year’s warranty. So, do some work with this machine!